Sherlock's Confession
by pottermeg95
Summary: All it takes is a little alcohol courage for the consulting detective to confess his feelings to his pathologist.


"Molly, there you are," John said a bit out of breath. "have you seen Sherlock?"

"No, why? He doesn't come in on Wednesdays."

"Right, okay." John was pacing back and forth in thought.

"Is everything alright?" Molly asked, getting the doctor to stop mid pace.

John sighed. "Yesterday Lestrade and Sherlock got into a bit of an argument, about alcohol consumption. Eventually it lead to a bet. See, Greg said, that Sherlock couldn't consume as much alcohol as him. Sherlock retaliated and said Greg couldn't consume as much as he could. They decided, that they would have to put it to the test."

"O-kay."

"So this afternoon, they both dragged me along to a pub..."

"_I don't see why I have to come. The bet doesn't concern me." John said, as Sherlock pulled him into the little pub._

"_Gavin-"_

"_Greg!" Lestrade interjected._

"_Greg and I will be too intoxicated to count the number of pints we've had. So you can keep score."_

_The three men sat down at the bar. _

_Greg raised his hand to the bar tender. "Oi! Two pints!" The man nodded, going to fill two glasses. "Ready to lose Sherlock?" _

"_Nope." He said popping the p. "Although I do hope your ready to lose, I've already had practice with John."_

_Greg burst out laughing. "You two only lasted a couple of hours! I've got this one in the bag. Finally, I'm going to have one up on the great, Sherlock Holmes." He rubbed his hands together. As two full glasses were set in front of them._

"_We'll see about that." Sherlock said wrapping his hand around the chilled glass._

"_May the best man win." He held his glass out to Sherlock's, clinking them together, before both took a long gulp of their beverage._

_Three hours later, they were completely pissed. John sat on the stool, rubbing his temples. Greg was up doing karaoke to some song. While Sherlock's emotions got the better of him. He was off talking to some bloke across the bar._

"_Not noticing the nail that stuck out, I turned around quickly, and..." He placed his hands up against his lips, biting back tears. "And I thought my jacket had ripped."_

_John rolled his eyes and got up. He had, had enough. Stomping over to his best friend, he yanked his arm and pulled him to his feet. _

"_Hey! W-w-what are you doing?" He slurred. Yanking back with all of his strength, John couldn't hold him any longer, sending the very drunk detective flying backwards, into the man he was just talking to._

"_Get off me!" The man was very big and well built. He pushed Sherlock into John, sending him tumbling back. Luckily for John, he still had his wits about him. Unlike Sherlock, who landed on his side, on a table. _

_Greg, who still had the microphone, held up another pint. "Loooook, Sher-lock." He slurred. "Another one for me!" Then threw his head back to down the liquid._

_Sherlock shook his head, and stumbled up to the counter. He leaned all the way over, sticking his long arm out._

"_Oh, no you don't!" John said, pulling him away. "You've had enough to drink."_

"_No I haven't" He scrunched his eyebrows together and squinted. "I've had looads not enough."_

"_Your not even making any sense!"_

"_I plenty sense!"_

"_Uh!" John pulled out his mobile and tried calling Mary. He would need some help to get these two out of here. Unfortunately, she didn't pick up. Finding a table far enough away from the bar, he helped Sherlock get into a seat. Who immediately slammed his head down on the table, looking sideways at John. "Mary isn't answering and my guess is Molly is working."_

"_Mmm, Molly." Sherlock mumbled. "Do you think she likes me John?"_

_John was surprised by his question. "Well she's put up with you for over five years now, so I'd say she does."_

"_No, like really likes me. The like, like kind." Sherlock let his eyes close as he waited for his answer._

_Letting out a breath he leaned forward. "I think she never stopped."_

_Sherlock's eyes snapped open. "I have to find Molly."_

"_What?!"_

_Sherlock rose from his seat, a bit wobbly, but he managed to stand up. Swaying in place. "Molly, Molly... I need to find Molly!" He jabbed a finger in every direction, searching for an exit._

"_Not right now you don't!" John went to push him back in his seat, but Sherlock was quick and bolted to the door. Great, bloody fantastic! He went to run out the door, but remembered Greg. He spun around and ran to the bar tender. "Here's twenty pounds, make sure he stays put, until I get back." He thrusted the bill at the man and sprinted outside. Looking around he couldn't find Sherlock anywhere. So he caught a taxi to Bart's._

"And that's how I ended up here."

Molly scrunched her face up. "So, Sherlock is here for me?"

"Hopefully, or else he's off galloping god knows where." John pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's so pissed, I don't even know if he could find his way here."

"We need to find him!" Molly shot up and grabbed John by the hand, leading him to the lift. "Let's start with the cafeteria first. He might have needed something to eat or drink at least, in his state."

They were in the cafeteria in less then five minutes. No sign of Sherlock anywhere. "He's not here!" John unhelpfully pointed out.

There was a cracking sound over the PA system. Everybody looked at each other. It was very rare for the hospital to use it. John and Molly shared a fearful look. If Sherlock got a hold of the PA, who knows what he would say.

"Molly! I need to speak with Molly!" There was some banging and rustling. "Just give it to me!"

Well, their suspicions were right. Molly's cheeks flushed when everyone in the room stared at her, once her name was called.

Sherlock must have wrestled the mouth piece away, panting, he slightly shouted,"Molly, if you can hear me right now, just listen." He paused for a couple of beats. "I have been a complete and utter ass in these past years we've known each other. I've used you, embarrassed you, hurt you, disappointed you, and yet you've never given up on me. Your always there, Molly Hooper, always. And I let you get away..." he trailed off.

Molly was bright red now, but she didn't seem to care. Her mind had wandered off else where.

"He seems to have sobered up a bit." John whispered to her, getting no answer.

"In that hallway, that day... I let you go. Wanted you to be happy and I thought Tom could have done that, I have never been so wrong. Molly I don't think anyone can ever make you happy."

Oh, here we go. John thought. He placed a hand over his eyes waiting for whatever finishing blow came next. Surprised when, there wasn't one.

"I don't think anyone, who isn't _me_ can make you truly happy... you love me."

Molly nervously fiddled with the locket that was around her neck.

"No matter what I have done to you or made you feel, you still love me. I was stupid letting you go that day. I should have told you then, that I, Sherlock Holmes, am completely, madly and hopelessly in love with you, Molly Hooper. I-" He was cut short, soon followed by retching noises coming through the speaker and the receptionist yelling at him.

Molly broke from her trance and ran to the main office, with John by her side. When they got there Sherlock was in hand cuffs on the bench. The security guard watching him like a hawk.

"Sherlock?" Molly Approached him carefully.

He smiled softly at her. "Ah, you did listen and no John, I am not out of my mind. In fact my mind is very well in tact. Especially now." he purred trying to grab Molly's hand, but scowled when he realised he was hand cuffed. "Will someone, take these bloody things off of me!"

John and Molly both laughed at his frustrations. He may not have been as drunk as he was earlier, but he was still intoxicated.

"Where's Geoffrey, when you need him!" He huffed.

"Greg!" John shouted. "He's been in that pub, for over six hours now!" He ran a hand through his hair.

"It's fine. I will take care of Sherlock and you can take care of Greg." Molly patted his shoulder.

"Your sure?"

"Yes, she's sure." Sherlock said turning his attention to her. "I'd rather, Molly take care of me." He winked.

Flustered, she smiled at John. "I'm sure."

John nodded and left. Leaving Molly and Sherlock alone. She took a seat, beside him on the bench. Fiddling with her hands.

"You don't think I meant what I said."

Molly sighed. "Your drunk, Sherlock. It's okay." Although her heart screamed that it wasn't, not really. She wished what he said was true, wanted to believe it, but how can you when he was not himself. It would be unfair of her, to hold him to what he said. Sherlock has made it quite clear over the past, that he had no romantic feelings towards her. So how can she take a leap of faith and believe, when he was wasted. Because, he may have no idea what he was saying or doing. She didn't want to wake up tomorrow and have a broken heart, when he told her it wasn't true.

The security guard made both Sherlock and herself sign papers about what happened and his release. She got a taxi to Baker Street and helped him to bed. Giving him aspirin and water for his head. She went to leave, when he took hold of her hand.

"Stay with me." His blue-green hues burned into her brown ones.

Molly chewed her bottom lip. Her pulse escalated, when he grabbed a hold of her hand. He started creating small circles with his thumb, making her shiver.

"Please." he begged.

Like always, she gave in. She crawled onto the other side, getting under the blankets. If what he said earlier was because of him being plastered, then at least she would always have this. He pulled her to him, laying her head on his chest.

"Thank-you." He whispered, lightly kissing the top of her head.

Molly refused to sleep. She didn't want to miss any second of how it felt to be wrapped up in his arms at night. In case her fears were true w hen they woke up. She fought her tired eyes as long as she could. Unfortunately, she reluctantly fell asleep, all too soon.

* * *

><p>The next morning, she awoke to him stroking her hair. She blinked a few times and sat up. She copied Sherlock, by leaning her back against the head board. Desperately itching to ask, the question that's been weighing on her mind since his confession.<p>

He moved his eyes to her and then back to looking straight ahead. "You want to know, if what I said last night was true or not."

Molly couldn't find a way to speak, just nodded.

"Right. One moment." he shot out of bed and ran out of the room. She heard the tap in the bathroom running. He had to brush his teeth, before letting her know where they stand?

Within a couple of minutes he reappeared again and hopped back under the covers, this time facing her. "Molly. I stand by what I said last night. Yes, I may have been drunk, but what I said and feel are true. I love you. I think I have for a long time now. It just took me a while to figure it out. And some alcohol consumption to finally tell you."

She could barely register what he had said, she was in shock. Sherlock leaned in closer, peering right into her eyes, letting his lips touch hers. Her lids fluttered shut. She kissed him back fiercely, he followed in suit. It wasn't long before it deepened, as he slid his tongue against hers, leaving nothing untouched as he explored her mouth. Moaning, when Sherlock nipped her bottom lip.

He took her in his arms and placed her on top of him, so that she was straddling his lips never parting. Slowly, he feathered searing hot kisses down her neck, until he reached her clavicle. Working his tongue and lips, until Molly was gasping for breath. She raked her fingers through his hair, encouraging him further. Without noticing Molly started to rock against him. They soon found a nice rhythm together.

Sherlock groaned against her skin. "I love you." He moved his mouth back up, paying attention to, just below her ear.

Molly bit her lip, trying to control herself. "I love you too." She brought his face back to hers and gave him a long passionate kiss. Running his hands along the hem of her shirt, slipping them under. Just then, they were interrupted, by Mrs. Hudson.

"Tea,dear!" She rang out.

"Damn." Sherlock muttered, placing his forehead against hers. Molly giggled.

They heard her rustling through the kitchen, cupboards opening and closing.

"She'll go away." He whispered. Pressing his swollen lips to hers. Continuing his exploration under her shirt.

Molly pulled back. "Sherlock!" She whispered, eyes wide.

Sighing, he slammed his head back and gazed at the ceiling. Molly slid down and laid her head on his chest.

"Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson called.

Sherlock groaned, sliding down the bed, until they were both laying down.

Molly smiled, slowly inching up, stopping when her face hovered over his. He opened his eyes, to look at her.

"It doesn't seem like she's going away anytime soon. You should just go out there and have tea with her."

He pouted.

"We can continue this later." She purred. Kissing him on his neck, sucking lightly. He threw his head back, a moan escaping his lips. He flipped them over, so she was underneath him. Molly gave a surprised yelp, then bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Promise?" He growled, kissing down the front of her throat.

"Yes." She whimpered, arching her back.

Sherlock chuckled, then bounced off the bed. He shrugged his maroon dressing gown on. Molly watched, lying on her side. He winked, before slipping out the door. She laid down on her back and smiled at the ceiling, kicking her legs excitedly. She stopped upon hearing Mrs. Hudson's voice.

"Oh! How rude!"

"Good-bye, Mrs. Hudson. Please don't stop by again any time soon." A door slammed and a pair of running feet came closer and closer. Until the bedroom's door burst open.

Sherlock smirked. "Now where were we?" Molly rolled her eyes, as he pounced on the bed, hovering over her. "Hmm, that's right. We were right," Sherlock moved his lips an inch away from hers "here." He whispered.


End file.
